In My Place
by Ada15
Summary: A different take on Randy Orton's face turn. Character based. Randy Orton/John Cena with mentioned past Randy/Cody Rhodes. Story starts during the Legacy break up.
1. Prologue

This is set back before Randy's face turn. This story is completely character based so he is not married here. I mostly like character based stories and I wanted to explore a different reason for Randy's face turn...

I don't own anyone mentioned in this fic or the WWE

Xxxxxxxx

Prologue

John Cena was angry. His feud with Batista had been taken to a height that he hadn't had to contend with since...well, since he'd been fighting Orton. Speaking of...John had been sitting backstage, watching the rest of the show to at least try and get his mind off losing the title to Batista.

John certainly held no love for Orton. In fact, Orton had been one of the few men that John had truly hated over the years. Hate was a strong word and John usually left whatever happened in the arena when he left but his and Orton's feuds had gotten so personal. Randy had turned out to be such a psycho...

John watched as, on screen, Orton tried to fight off the two men he'd been teaming with for the better part of two years. It wasn't exactly an unpleasant sight. Legacy, as they called themselves, had been the bane of many superstars existences since they had formed.

He couldn't say that Orton didn't deserve it. He'd watched with all the WWE fans when Randy had repeatedly beat down the two boys that seemed to look up to him, as he continued to use them and John was only surprised that Rhodes and DiBiase had taken so long to get up the nerve to fight back.

The fans, however, seemed firmly in Randy Orton's camp when it started. In fact, John hadn't heard Randy get cheered so loud, or at all, since his break from Evolution years ago. John understood it, he guessed. Ted and Cody certainly weren't endearing themselves to anyone. They had learned from the best how to make everyone they came into contact with hate them.

John had been in a lot of surprising situations since signing with WWE. But, he could say, none was more surprising than the one he got into after that night, after watching the implosion of Legacy on live television.

Xxxxxxxx

Randy stumbled down the hallway. One hand braced on the wall, he moved forward, barely aware of where he was going or of the blood running down his face. His chest burned horribly but he hardly noticed that either.

Dark blue eyes still swam in his vision. Hatred and accusation swimming in those eyes. Eyes that had looked at him with love just a few weeks ago.

Randy stumbled, barely managing to keep his feet under him. Dazed, he felt something he hadn't allowed himself to feel in years. The guilt nearly overwhelmed him. This was his fault.

Xxxxxxxx

John literally ran straight into him. He'd been on his way out of the arena, heading towards the parking lot. He hadn't been paying too much attention to his surroundings when he'd rounded a corner and slammed into someone. This someone stumbled and nearly fell and, on instinct, John reached out to steady them before looking up and meeting the gray eyes of Randy Orton.

It wasn't as if John hadn't run into the man before. This time, however, Orton faltered, even with John holding a hand on his arm, one arm wrapped tightly around his midsection. John released him on seeing who it was and Randy lent against the wall. It seemed to be the only thing holding him up.

John noticed several things when he did take a step back. Randy was still in his ring gear. He was breathing harshly and after a moment, he slid down the wall till he was sitting on the floor in the hall. He was also bleeding. There was a startling amount of blood staining the left side of his face and it still oozed from his temple.

The halls of the arena were never deserted and for a moment, John wondered how many people had come across Orton and just let him pass by. Reluctantly, John knelt in front of the man. He'd hated Orton for years but he couldn't just walk away from someone who couldn't even stand on their own.

"What the hell happened to you?" John asked, keeping his voice flat as he reached forward and tilted Randy's head, inspecting the wound. This hadn't happened happened during Randy's match. John had watched that himself.

"Cena?" Randy's voice came out rough and he was squinting at John.

"Yeah." John sighed. "What happened?" To his surprise, Randy's expression contorted into something close to...guilt?

"I did it." Randy's voice was slurred and his gaze was unfocussed.

John raised an eyebrow. "I doubt you did this to yourself." John grabbed his arm and started to pull him up. "Come on. You need to get checked out."

Randy shoved him off weakly and tried to stand on his own. "I did it," he repeated. He brought his hands up to his head and then stared at the blood on them. The shock and hurt he saw on Randy's face was something John hadn't ever seen on the man before.

Randy laughed then, high and almost hysterical. "Oh, God." Then he leaned forward and threw up, barely missing his and John's shoes.

John wrinkled his nose and glanced up and down the hall, wishing for a moment that he'd gone in a different direction or that one of the trainers would wonder down the hall and take Orton off his hands because he just couldn't seem to help the pity that welled in him at the sight of Orton like this.

"Come on," John repeated, his voice a tad softer this time as he reached forward and steadied the man again.

This time, Orton let John lead him away.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Not for the first time, John wondered why he was doing this. He'd taken Randy to get patched up and, other than a some bruising and a mild concussion, Randy would be fine. The cut on his temple had been cleaned and bandaged. John hadn't meant to stay after getting Randy to some help but his curiosity had gotten the better of him.

Randy had been silent the whole time. It seemed he'd gone mute after puking in the hallway. Somehow, John had agreed to get Randy back to his hotel room. It was something between his curiosity and the knowledge that nobody else would be volunteering to do it. Randy didn't exactly have any friends backstage, especially since Rhodes and DiBiase had turned on him.

He'd managed to get Randy back to his room and, ignoring John, Randy had crawled into his bed on his stomach, burying his face in his pillow.

John sat in the chair beside the bed after a moment, chewing his lip and staring at the man who, for years, had been his biggest enemy. It had been suggested that someone stay with Randy for the night. He did have a concussion, after all but the dubious look on the trainers face had made it clear that he thought that both Randy wouldn't allow that and that there wouldn't be anyone willing to do it for him.

John leaned back in the chair. It was a bad idea but despite all the things Randy had done to him in the past, he couldn't seem to leave the man hurt the way he was. He scowled at himself, wished not for the first time, that his conscious would just shut the hell up.

Still John didn't not get up. He'd most likely regret it later when Randy wasn't dazed and concussed but for the moment, he didn't move.

Xxxxxxxxx

He'd destroyed everything. Randy couldn't escape the thought. It overwhelmed him, making the physical pain in his head and in his chest seem distant.

It was still fresh in his mind. It was all he could think about. He didn't care that Cena was still in the room, at least not then. He might care the next day but that night, after what had happened, it didn't matter.

His head felt too heavy and his chest felt hollow and he couldn't escape those eyes. When he finally did fall into a restless sleep, Cody's dark blue eyes followed him down, haunting him even in his dreams.


	2. Crossed Lines I Shouldn't Have Crossed

John Cena was asleep in the chair beside his bed. Randy wasn't sure what to do with that. He'd been awake for at least a half hour but hadn't had the urge to get up just yet. He was pretty sure Cena was going to be sore when he woke up. His own head was pounding like a bad hangover and light bruises had formed, winding along his chest.

The events from the night before were a little hazy but he remembered enough. He closed his eyes and ran a hand over his shaved head, digging his fingers into his scalp as Cody and Ted's faces swam across the blackness behind his eyelids again.

Sure, Legacy couldn't have stayed together forever and he'd almost been expecting something like this from Ted. Ted hadn't been happy for a while and Randy was honestly surprised it had taken so long for the man to snap.

Randy just truly hadn't expected something like it from Cody and it wasn't until Cody had attacked him with Ted that Randy realized that.

Maybe he should have expected it. Maybe Cody had been planning it since he'd confessed his feelings and Randy hadn't given him the answer he'd wanted.

"_I love you." Dark blue eyes met his, shining with that love. _

"_No, you don't. You don't even know me." _

It was as honest as Randy could get. Nobody really knew him. Not anymore. He liked it that way. He still wasn't sure how Cody could even think he had those feelings after all the shit Randy had piled on him since they'd formed Legacy.

Randy rubbed a hand across his face. He still felt off kilter, the feelings Cody's actions had caused had not abated fully yet. Sighing, he got up and made his way to the bathroom without a glance in Cena's direction.

Xxxxxxxx

The bed was empty but John could hear the shower running in the bathroom. John had been awake for nearly ten minutes. His back was killing him from sleeping in the chair and he was still debating with himself on whether or not he should leave before Randy came back into the room.

He stood and stretched out his aching muscles, still considering his options. That curiosity from the night before came back again as he heard the water shut off in the other room. He wondered a moment who would be coming out of the bathroom. That eerily silent guy from the night before who had let John lead him out of the arena and back to his hotel room or the sociopath who had, on more than one occasion, tried to end John's career along with many other WWE superstars.

The door opened and Randy sauntered out. He was still shirtless and the jeans he wore hung so low on his hips that it was a wonder they stayed up at all. Randy glanced briefly John's way before grabbing a pair of shoes, socks, and a shirt and going to sit on the bed.

"What are you doing here?" Randy finally asked. He wasn't meeting John's gaze and his voice was flat, not cold or angry.

"I..." John frowned as he watched Randy pull the shirt over his head, covering the bruises that had formed over the night. "Said you had a concussion, that someone should stay."

"Why?" Randy did look at him then and there was a frown on his face. When John only raised an eyebrow, Randy rolled his eyes and elaborated. "Why the hell would you stay for me?"

John shrugged. "It's my conscious, dude. It makes me do all sorts of stupid things."

Randy snorted but his voice held no humor when he answered. "Right."

"Who did that to you?" John asked curiously. He was pretty sure of who it was. Whoever it was, they had wanted to hurt Randy, _badly. _

Randy stared off a moment. "I deserved it," he said, quietly, almost to himself. Then he shook himself, looked away again and John had the impression that he'd just let something slip he hadn't meant to.

John hesitated a moment and thought about it. He thought about how bad Randy had looked. He thought about how many people may have seen Randy and decided not to help. He thought about how late it had been when he'd found Randy. He could have been hurt worse. That head wound had looked a hell of a lot worse than it was when John had found him.

"Maybe you deserved to get your ass kicked, but whoever it was tried to seriously injure you and left you alone in an almost deserted arena. For all they knew, no one could have found you." He could have been left alone, lying in his blood all night with far worse injuries, as far as whoever had done this knew. John started towards the door.

"No one deserves that," he said before he left. "Not even you."

xxxxxxxxxxx

Usually, John didn't pay much attention to the whispers in the locker rooms. Because, honestly, sometimes he thought it was like stepping back into high school. The back stabbing, the rumors, the people glaring at you, wanting to kick your ass.

Randy's name seemed to be on the lips of nearly every person back stage this time. It wasn't so much of a surprise. Due to all the horrible, nasty things Randy had done over the past several years, Randy had been a great source of gossip.

This time, however, word had apparently gotten around about Randy taking a beating backstage. Unfortunately for John, word had also gotten around about who had found and helped Randy.

"Hey, John," Evan called when he spotted him, the usual grin on his face.

"Hey, man." John sat down on the bench in the locker room and started getting ready. Evan leaned close to him.

"So..."

"So, what?" John asked, looking up at the boy.

"Is it true?" Evan asked, a light of curiosity in his eyes.

John nearly groaned. "Is what true?" He asked, feigning ignorance even though he had already been asked the same question by a couple of the divas on his way into the arena. He hadn't given them an answer but he liked Evan. They had become pretty good friends since the boy had been drafted to RAW.

"That...you know, you and Orton are..." Evan wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

John stared at him, his mouth open. "What?" Okay, so that hadn't been the question he'd been asked earlier.

"Rumor is that you and Orton were doing the deed back in the locker room." Evan shrugged. "I gotta tell you man, I don't see why. I'm not judging and there's no denying Orton is hot...like, really hot...but he's such a psycho-"

"I am not doing..._that _with Orton," John cut him off in a shocked, but fierce, whisper. "Who the fuck told you that?"

Evan shrugged. "It's going around. So, you're not-"

"No, I'm not," John answered firmly.

Evan nodded, taking John's word for it and dropping it, just like that. It was one of the things John liked most about Evan even though it had caused the boy problems in the past. He was just too damned trusting sometimes.

Still, John couldn't help the groan at the direction the rumors had taken. He wasn't so much surprised about it. He supposed it had started with the truth and spiraled out of control until he and Randy were fucking backstage. That sort of thing had happened before.

John sighed and went back to getting ready again. He didn't so much care about rumors but he also wasn't looking forward to the questions that he was going to get asked.

When the locker room door opened again, the whispers stopped and John looked up to see Randy stalk into the room. Randy's gray eyes swept the room and briefly made contact with John's, who sighed at the look in them.

Those gray eyes had turned cold again and John could see the rage dancing in them. Seemed like Orton was back in form. Randy completely ignored the others in the room and not one of them approached Randy to ask him if the rumors were true.

John rolled his eyes. Sometimes a reputation like Randy's would probably come in handy.

Xxxxxxxx

_They've been fucking with you all along_

Randy was seething by the time he made it to the locker room. Not about the rumors running rampant backstage about he and Cena. He had no clue there were rumors about them. No one approached.

In fact, most of the people backstage stepped to the side to let him pass, watching him warily as he strode by.

He'd woken up the same guilty conscious he'd gone to bed with and had even entertained the idea of trying to talk to Cody. He just hadn't been able to get the memories to leave his head. Memories of the two years they'd spent as a tag team and all the things Randy had done wrong with the boy. He couldn't escape the thought that maybe he had driven Cody to turning on him. The fact that Cody had shared his bed on more than one occasion and that Randy just could not return the feelings that Cody had expressed couldn't have helped.

That was before he'd gone looking for Cody and found the boy locked in an embrace with Ted. He'd also overheard part of their conversation, the biggest part, at least. The part that revealed the two of them had been together for over six months.

A very small part of him, that tiny little part of him that wasn't the sociopath that kicked people in their heads and put in that extra step to try and end others careers, understood it. After all, it seemed that Ted was giving Cody something that Randy never could. And he had never been the best in the boyfriend department.

The majority of him, however, burned with rage and betrayal over the fact that Cody had _lied _to him. Over the fact that Cody had slept in his bed and told Randy that he loved him while he was fucking Ted at the same time.

It was the lies that burned. The lies that made that rage well up in. So strong that Randy could hardly see straight. He wanted...needed a release for it. The problem was, he didn't have a match scheduled for that night but he saw an opportunity later. One that would allow him that release and a way to pay Cena back for what he'd done the last time they'd been in an arena together.

Xxxxxxxxx

John scowled in anger as he crouched defensively in one corner of he ring. The handicap match he'd found himself in had already deteriorated into an all out brawl and John had barely managed the stave off the first round of attack from Batista and Swagger.

He assessed both men and figured he was screwed. The look in Batista's eyes was a familiar one and John knew the man would want him hurting for their match at Wrestlemania.

Both men were so focused on John, they didn't notice the other figure coming down the ramp and John tried to school his features from the surprise he felt, even as the crowd cheered at the sight of him.

Randy Orton was on the apron before they noticed and he reached over, grabbing a hand full of Swagger's hair, pulling him back against the ropes and landing a forearm across Swagger's chest. Swagger fell forward and Randy entered the ring.

John was so surprised at the actions that, at first, he didn't move. Batista turned, however...right into a RKO. Randy turned his attention back to Swagger after Batista was down and began taking his frustrations out on the young man, landing a few kicks to his midsection before Randy lifted him up to his feet and delivered his signature move once again, the force of it making Swagger roll...right out of the ring.

John stood slowly, eyeing Randy warily. Randy stood still a moment, eyes closed, fingers digging into his scalp. He looked like he was trying to gain control of himself and John let him.

Finally, Randy let his arms drop to his sides and he lifted his head, opened his eyes, and met John's gaze. John was surprised, once again, when a smirk formed on Randy's face and he gave John a mock salute before rolling out of the ring.

John watched him as he strolled almost casually up the ramp, the cheers of the crowd following him. _What the hell just happened? _


	3. Hollow

The rage died as quickly as it had started. As soon as Swagger and Batista were on the mat. As always, laying Batista out was very satisfying. He'd do that without any incentive besides the general hatred that nearly always burned bright whenever he looked Batista's way. He was hoping that Cena destroyed the son of a bitch at Wrestlemania.

It was when he got backstage that he finally caught wind of the rumors that had been running wild about himself and Cena. Randy only scoffed at them. He didn't give a damn about rumors and these new ones were ridiculous. He was only mildly surprised at how many people seemed to believe them.

Including, of course, his former teammate, who seemed to be the only one with the guts to approach him about it. Randy was in the parking lot, almost to his car when the voice called to him.

"You blew me off for Cena?" Cody's voice was indignant and he had come close, almost inside Randy's personal space. He seemed to have forgotten, for the moment at least, that they were no longer tagging together or that he and Ted had attacked Randy, repeatedly, over the past several weeks.

Randy glared down at him, gripping the keys in his hand hard. "You need to leave," he said slowly, voice barely controlled when, in an instant, the rage came back. He'd wanted to get out of the arena before Cena decided to confront him about what had happened earlier.

"Or what?" Cody scowled and Randy took a step closer to him. He didn't get a chance to respond, however, as a blinding pain took him to the concrete ground near his car. Randy rolled to his side, his hands reaching for his right knee, gritting his teeth to keep from yelling. He caught sight of Ted standing next to Cody and the weapon in his hand.

Ted glared down at him before dragging Cody away with him and Randy was left in the nearly deserted parking lot.

"Fuck," Randy cursed when he tried to bend his knee. He managed to sit up and lean back against his car after a few minutes and he reflected, as he pulled his pant leg up to get a look at his knee, that Cody was a bit more pissed at him than Randy had thought. The boy had gone out of his way to try and injure Randy.

Then again, it wasn't as if Cody was innocent. He'd never really been. It was a mistaken assumption people made when they looked at Cody's boyish face and big blue eyes and it was something that, sometimes, Cody liked to play up but Cody was about as innocent as Randy.

Randy still remembered that look of satisfaction on Cody's face whenever he managed to take another guy out.

"Having a bad day?" The voice startled Randy. The familiarity of that voice had Randy scowling as he looked up into the eyes of someone he'd hated for years.

"What the fuck do you want?" He asked through gritted teeth. He braced his hands on his car and pulled himself to his feet, jaw clenching as he tried to ignore the pain in his knee.

Batista took a step closer to him. "You interfered in my match tonight."

"That was a match?" Randy asked, disdainfully. "You need Swagger to take Cena out now?" He leaned close to Batista, carefully not putting weight on his right leg. He was aware, in some part of his mind, that antagonizing Batista when he was already hurt wasn't the smartest move in the world but he just couldn't seem to help himself. He never could, at least not with this man.

"Afraid to fight your own battles now?" The disgust in his voice was clear. Batista had been up on his own moral high ground for years, since he'd broken away from Evolution and had only come off it recently. The problem was that it wasn't real, that it was all fake. The hypocrisy of nearly everything that had flowed from the mans mouth since he'd won the world title for the first time had made Randy hate him even more than when he'd dropped Randy from his shoulders, and from Evolution, six years ago.

Randy wasn't a good person. There was pretty much nothing he wouldn't do to get what he wanted. He'd lived up to his own bad reputation but at least he'd never lied about who he was.

"Oh, no, Randy. I can fight my own battles." Batista's fists clenched and Randy tensed, preparing for a fight.

"Are you guys fighting?" A new voice interrupted what was going to happen. They both looked over at John Cena. "Because you know, fighting out here could be dangerous. Someone could get hurt." John was staring at Batista as he said the words.

Batista looked between Randy and John, judging his chances and seemed to decide that he didn't have one against both of them. _Smart, _Randy thought as Batista backed away from him.

"You better watch your back, Orton," Batista said before walking away. Randy only snorted in response. He'd heard _that _too many times to count.

"He do that?" John asked after Batista left, gesturing to Randy's knee.

"Nope," Randy answered lightly. He leaned against his car again now that Batista was gone, the grimace coming back to his face.

John shook his head. "You really know how to make enemies."

"What I'm best at." He tested his leg and had to suppress a cry when it gave out. He did not hit the ground, however. Suddenly, John was in his personal space, one hand on Randy's chest, the other on his shoulder, keeping him upright.

"Why are you helping me?" Randy asked him even as he braced himself by putting a hand on John's shoulder.

"Why'd you help me?" John countered. Randy gave a sigh and let John help him again.

Xxxxxxxxxx

"You sure you should be doing this?"

Randy did not look up to meet John's gaze at the question, instead focusing on his boots. After an awkward filled night of John helping him back to get checked out after Cody and Ted's second attack, Randy hadn't spoken to the man. Not since then at least.

"I'm fine," Randy answered shortly. At least, no lasting damage had been done. His knee was still a little swollen and it still hurt a little bit but he didn't really have a choice. He hadn't torn or broken anything so of course he had to be there for the match.

"You sure about that?" John asked skeptically. Randy didn't answer him. He could understand, he supposed. He and John had tagged several times before but they had only managed to actually work together once.

Plus, he was going into a handicapped tag team match with a busted knee. Randy wasn't willing to back down from it, though. Not after the attacks from Cody and Ted and definitely not after Batista's little threat. Besides, even if he wanted to back off, Randy had never endeared himself to his bosses. Vince and Stephanie still hated him for all the crap he'd pulled last year.

"You want to go into this thing alone?" Randy asked with a raised eyebrow, standing.

John shrugged. "Can I trust you?" He asked warily.

Randy only smirked. "You can trust that I really want to take them out and that I can't do it alone."

"So, what? You need me?" John asked with some amusement.

Randy shrugged. "You think anyone else would be willing to team with me?"

John paused. "You have a point," he admitted before following Randy out of the locker room.

Xxxxxxxxx

Things had certainly gone downhill fast. The match...he and Cena versus Cody, Ted, and Batista had gone alright at first. Randy had momentarily wondered why Batista would consent to a match with Cody and Ted after they had helped Randy break the man's arm, along with countless other attacks.

It was three on two, sure, but Randy and John were the top guys on RAW for a reason. It wasn't until John had been knocked off the apron, Batista had gotten a lucky shot in and Cody had been tagged for the first time for it to really start the slide downhill.

The rumors that had been started backstage about Randy and John had only been made worse since the first night John had helped Randy. After Randy's interference in John's favor the week before and then John helping Randy once again...well, these things, at least in the minds of everyone backstage, only confirmed that there was something going on between the two men.

It was this that may have been affecting Cody Rhodes as he stepped into the ring off the tag from Batista. Randy was lying in the middle of the ring, clutching his knee, still reeling from Batista's attack. Before he was aware of what he was doing, Cody began raining down closed fist punches and kicks on his former teammate. He could hardly hear his own voice but he was screaming.

"_I hate you!" _

Randy, for his part, was completely caught off guard by the attack and by what he heard in Cody's tone. Before he could regain control of himself and stop it, one of Cody's kicks caught him on the temple and the world darkened for just a second. Then Cody was on top of him.

Neither man heard the warning from the referee, or when Cody was disqualified. It was Ted who pulled Cody off Randy and it was John who came to his defense. They stood on either side of the ring as referee's flooded it, trying to keep the men apart.

Randy pulled himself up and sat back on his heels. He spat blood from a split lip on the mat before looking up to meet Cody's eyes. The look in the boy's eyes was what did it. He tasted his own blood and he didn't feel angry. All he felt was hollow.

Xxxxxxxx

The feeling would not leave. Randy sat in the locker room, still in his ring gear. The blood had dried on his face and his knee burned with pain but he hadn't moved from the position he was in since coming backstage. Most everyone had left already.

The feeling that had sprung up after Cody's uncharacteristic show of emotion simply refused to leave. He had no urge to get up.

Xxxxxxxxx

John shouldered his bag and glanced, once again, at Orton. The man hadn't moved once since the last time John had glanced over. John had taken a shower, dressed, and spoken to most of his friends backstage after the show was over. Orton was still in his ring gear.

This night, and the match, had surprised him. Not because of the disqualification. More because up until that point, he and Randy had been working rather well together. Randy had taken all his tags, had saved his ass once when the three they were facing had tried jumping him.

It was a different side of Orton and one that John found he rather liked. Randy was amazing in the ring when he was on his game. He was very talented and John had to admit that it was nice to have that talent working with him instead of against him.

John chewed his lip and hesitated at the door. His view of Orton had been altered, not just tonight. He wondered if Randy would sit there all night...John spoke without thinking about what was coming out of his mouth.

"You wanna grab a drink?"

Randy finally moved, looking up at John. He hesitated a moment before he shrugged. "Sure."

John watched as he grabbed his bag and searched out something to wear. He really hoped he wouldn't regret this later.


	4. Shake It Up

John sat back in his seat and marveled at the wonders of alcohol and what it could do to a man. He was a little buzzed himself but not completely drunk. However, with what he was watching, he was seriously considering getting himself to that point.

Randy was on the dance floor of the club they had ended up at. John had been sitting at a table nearby, mouth open in surprise as he watched the man. Admittedly, he'd never gone out for drinks with Randy but still…he was pretty sure this wasn't normal behavior from him.

Randy was weaving through the other people on the floor…_dancing. _As John watched, he dipped the pretty blonde girl that had asked him to in the first place. It didn't just include the blonde, though. Randy pulled several women-and men-in. Apparently, three beers and a few shots of tequila turned the normally antisocial and violent young man a little…loose.

John could not keep his eyes off.

Randy was beautiful. John remembered thinking that before, years ago when he'd first met Randy but his attitude had ruined any sort of crush John might have developed back then. True, Randy had always been good looking, and he wasn't the only person who thought so, but he'd also been such a dick…

John couldn't help but to think it, though. In a too tight white tee-shirt, fitted jeans, shaking his ass on the dance floor…well, it was kind of hard not to appreciate _that _picture. John was of the opinion that Randy looked sexier than he did in next to nothing when he was in the ring.

John took another shot and shook his head because he really shouldn't be thinking those kinds of things. At least, not about Randy Orton. Going with his earlier plan, he went to order more drinks. He was still a little bit too sober for this.

Xxxxxxxxxx

If it could be said that tequila and beer made Randy Orton a little loose, it should also be said that the mix of the two made John Cena downright giddy and hyper…and also, it might have made him forget the fact that the guy he was dancing with, the guy who had dragged him out on the floor, had been his biggest enemy for years.

But, well, he was having fun. John grabbed onto that were he could. He'd never seen the need to take everything seriously and even if he should still hate Randy, he couldn't find it in himself to care. Not when he had drank enough alcohol to make him feel very, very good and not when he was having fun.

And if he only remembered his attraction from before when Randy's fingers brushed his skin…well, he could blame the alcohol.

And if he forgot to think at all when Randy spun him around to the sound of the song playing, oblivious to the people who may have been watching, he could blame that on the booze as well. Tequila had always made him a little stupid.

Randy's eyes were bright and completely not angry or cold. He bounced along to the upbeat music and repeatedly got into John's personal space.

They drank and they danced and John couldn't remember the last time he'd had so much fun.

Xxxxxxxxx

"Where's your room?" John asked. His voice was slurred from too much alcohol and he had to drag Randy along with him. Randy was several inches taller than him but at that moment he was bent, his arms wrapped tightly around John's chest and he had his head resting against John's side. John had one arm wrapped around Randy's shoulders. They lent their weight against each other, keeping themselves upright.

"Uh…" Randy paused and looked around the hall of the hotel. "Dunno." Randy was stumbling as they walked, even more drunk than John.

John didn't say anything to that, just pulled Randy to his own room, sure that if he didn't get to a bed soon that he'd end up laying down in the middle of the hallway and not getting up. They passed by a few people and somewhere in John's muddled brain, he thought that it wouldn't do any good for the rumors about he and Randy.

He managed to get both of them into his room and dropped down on his bed, hardly aware of Randy doing the same beside him, his arm never leaving John's waist as they both passed out.

Xxxxxxxxx

"Cena…" A pause so John could groan. "Time to get up." Someone shook him a little and John squinted his eyes open. He put hands on his pounding head.

"Shit…" He groaned again.

"I got you coffee," the voice informed him and John finally managed to open his eyes and lift his head.

"Randy?" He asked, staring up into gray eyes.

"Come on, man." Randy shook his leg. "Can't sleep the whole day."

"God…my head…" John let his head drop back.

"Yeah, figured." Randy shook a bottle of pills in his line of vision. "Get up. Shower, pills, coffee…you'll feel better."

John lifted up until he was resting on his elbows and squinted at Randy. "How are you not hung over?" He was pretty sure Randy had drank more than him last night.

"Been up for a few hours," Randy said with a shrug. "I've already spent time with the toilet," he admitted. "Actually, I've already taken a shower, a few of these," he handed over the bottle of pills, "you never moved." He seemed amused by these facts.

John struggled to sit up fully and glared at Randy. "You're not a morning person, are you?" he asked as he opened the bottle and shook out a few pills.

"It's not morning anymore," Randy informed him. "I just…don't ever sleep much."

"I'm usually a morning person," John said. "And with the amount of alcohol you consumed last night I'm surprised you didn't sleep all day."

Randy simply shrugged. "I never sleep that much. Not even with booze."

"Why not?" John asked, scrubbing hand through his hair with one hand and wrapping the other around his midsection in an attempt to quell the rising nausea.

"You gonna get up or what?" Randy ignored John's question but he did see a flash of something he couldn't recognize in the man's eyes that made him frown.

"Yeah, yeah," John answered gruffly.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Randy sat back on the bed as John shuffled his way into the bathroom. A frown formed on his face as he thought about the night before. He'd had fun. He hadn't had fun like that in years. Not even with the alcohol helper.

Still, even with how much he'd had to drink and with the atmosphere of the night before…he still hadn't been able to sleep like he should have. He hadn't been able to pull that off in years.

And he wasn't…a morning person, that was. He wasn't usually an any time of day person. Generally, his bad mood followed him around from the time he woke up until he went to sleep. He'd begun to think that would never change.

He'd made some sort of peace with who he was. With the fact that he'd never be happy or a good person.

But the night before…the night before he had been. For a few hours, drinking and dancing with John Cena…he'd been happy. It should have been weird or even scary but it was neither. He just wanted that feeling back. He wanted it to last.

Xxxxxxxx

Randy was right, of course. John felt much better after the shower, and after changing clothes. He'd passed out in the clothes he'd gone to the club in. He hated that. He woke up feeling sweaty and dirty.

When he finally made it out of the bathroom, Randy was still sitting against the headboard of his bed, seemingly lost in thought.

"Hey." John slapped Randy's leg on his way past. "You wanna go get breakfast."

After a moment a smile-a real one-broke out on Randy's face and he nodded. "Sure."

Xxxxxxxx

Breakfast was not as awkward as John would have expected. Randy dug in like he hadn't eaten in days and John couldn't help but to watch him a little. He'd had fun the night before, he could admit that and Randy wasn't bad company when he wasn't trying to kick someone's head off.

John had never been a fan of over analyzing himself or others. He was a big believer in going with the flow. And, hey, if this new…_thing_ whatever it was, because he wouldn't even call it friendship yet, between he and Randy kept the man from trying to end John's career…

For the first time since he met Randy, John wondered how he'd turned out like he was. Over the past couple of weeks, John had gotten glimpses of another Randy Orton. One that would come down to the ring and keep another person from getting double teamed. One that could loosen up and have a little fun.

John idly wondered if there had ever been a time when Randy was like that more than just every so often. Shaking his head, John tried to stop those thoughts, tried to go back to his vow of _not _trying to analyze the person sitting across from him.

They had a nice breakfast and by the time they parted ways, John's opinion of Randy had been altered even further.

Xxxxxxxxx

Like he always was before the big show, John was hyped up and nervous. He simply could not sit still. He glanced, every so often, at the small television screen situated to his left that showed what was happening in the ring. The show hadn't officially started yet, however.

He was pacing the floor, his thoughts on his match with Batista when the door to the locker room opened and Randy strolled in. He was already in his ring gear and he seemed just as agitated as John. He only glanced John's way before moving to sit on the bench.

John raised an eyebrow and his thoughts went from his match to Randy's. "Worried?"

Randy's head snapped up and he frowned. "Why would I be worried?"

John shrugged. "Because you're basically going into a handicapped match," he pointed out. The match between Cody, Ted, and Randy was supposed to be a triple threat but John seriously doubted it would play out that way.

"I'm not worried," Randy stated. John kind of believed him. He didn't look worried, only angry.

"You better be careful. You know they're not going to play fair."

Randy raised an eyebrow. "You almost sound like _you're_ worried, Cena."

"Yeah, I know." John shook his head, bewildered. "Strange, huh?"

A small smile crossed Randy's face and his eyes softened momentarily. "Yeah."

And John, well, he couldn't help but to smile himself.


	5. Beer, Pizza, and Q & A

John was riding a high after his match with Batista. The kind of high he always got after a win during a main event. The kind of high he always got when he was able to throw the WWE title over his shoulder and know that he'd earned that privilege.

The smile on his face was wide and he'd thought nothing could wipe it away…until he made his way backstage and heard the voices coming from the locker room. The door was open and John had been about to walk in when he stopped short at the familiar voices.

"You gave him a concussion." The anger in Ted DiBiase's voice was clear.

"And you care?" There was disdain in Randy's. "Looked to me like you two had your own little break up in front of everyone."

"You could have seriously hurt him. After everything you've done-"

"Everything I've done?" John could clearly hear the rage building behind Randy's words as he continued. "I didn't force you into Legacy, you or Cody. The two of you had no problem following my lead for almost two years."

"You're a psycho-"

"Walk away now, Teddy," Randy's growl cut him off. "Stop acting like such a fucking victim and walk the fuck away or I'll _make _you a victim."

John rounded the corner finally, stopping in the entrance of the room. Neither man noticed him. Ted spoke up again before John could announce his presence.

"We weren't-"

"You weren't what? None of this was your idea? I forced you into all that?" Randy grabbed the sides of Ted's face in a bruising grip. "I didn't force you into anything," he repeated. "Stop pretending you're innocent and leave me the fuck alone." He emphasized the point by shaking Ted before pushing him away.

"Am I interrupting?" John asked, finally alerting the other two men of the fact that they weren't alone. Ted turned his scowl on John before pushing past him to leave. John raised an eyebrow. Randy was still tense after Ted left, still angry. He had changed out of his ring gear and taken a shower after his match, which had been near the beginning of the show.

"What are you still doing here?" John asked. His own match had been the last one of the night, about two hours after Randy's.

John was surprised when the anger drained from Randy's eyes at the question and he actually looked a little embarrassed, red coloring his cheeks. John's jaw nearly dropped at the blush and he couldn't help but think that it was kind of adorable.

"I was just…hanging around."

"Hanging around?" John asked skeptically. Randy didn't have any friends backstage that he knew of.

Randy shrugged a little sheepishly. "I may have been waiting," he admitted reluctantly.

"For me?" John clarified, a smile forming on his face.

"Maybe," Randy answered with a roll of his eyes. "I figured we could go grab a drink. You did just win the title back," he pointed out.

"What if I'd lost?"

"Commiseration?" Randy said, a little bit of a question in his voice.

John smiled wide enough that his dimples showed. "Aw, you do care about me." He walked forward, attempting to wrap his arms around Randy who, to his surprise, only held him back with a smile of his own.

"Go get cleaned up, dork."

Xxxxxxxx

Pizza, beer, and si-fi. Normally, John liked to go out but after the adrenaline rush had worn off from his match, the aches and pains had made themselves known. So, instead of suggesting the club not far from their hotel, he'd asked Randy if he wanted to hang out there.

Randy had been pretty accepting of the idea. It was how they both ended up back in John's ridiculously huge hotel room in front of the television. Randy plopped himself down on the floor, back against the couch, long legs stretched out in front of him, allowing John to stretch himself out on the couch. John suspected Randy had noticed the aches John had been attempting to hide and had sat on the floor for just that reason. Randy hadn't said anything about it but John was still grateful-and a little surprised-at the gesture.

Randy had, of course, snagged the remote before John could and had flipped through the channels until he found a movie he liked. John was highly delighted to find out about Randy's secret love of all things Star Trek. John couldn't stop a smile as Randy mouthed the lines from The Voyage Home.

"I bet everyone would be delighted to know that The Viper is a closet Trekkie," John commented.

"You wouldn't tell," Randy commented without turning away from the screen.

"Why not?"

Randy simply shrugged in return but he seemed pretty confident about it and he was right. John wouldn't tell. The unguarded glimpses he'd gotten of Randy over the past several weeks were something he hadn't spoken to anyone about.

He'd been asked, sure, but he hadn't answered. The little details that never failed to surprise John remained between he and Randy.

Xxxxxxxxx

"You like a lot of nineties rock?" John asked idly, eyes trained on Randy, who had leaned his head back against the couch. He'd had a few beers and his eyes were half closed. He was comfortably tired and it was making his lips a little loose.

He shrugged at the question. "Spent my teenage years in the nineties," he pointed out.

"What's your favorite band from the nineties?" John pressed, well aware that he might have been taking a little bit advantage of the mood brought on by the beer and the fact that they should both probably be in bed.

"Bush," Randy reluctantly answered after a moment.

"Bush?" John asked with a raised eyebrow.

Randy shrugged again. "My first ever crush, man. I got tickets to go see them. Fourteen years old and the moment Gavin Rossdale came out on stage, I was so fucking in love. It was when I realized that girls didn't really do it for me."

"You've known that since you were fourteen?" John asked in amazement. It had taken him a lot longer to realize it. Granted, he had gone for girls, he'd just tried to ignore the fact that boys did it for him too. He'd gone through the whole denial-angst-acceptance stages himself.

"Kinda hard to ignore, I guess. I mean, girls really didn't do it for me. Never have."

"Huh." John was silent for a moment before he continued on the way he had been before. "So…favorite movie?"

Xxxxxxxxx

Somehow, Randy had ended up on the couch with him. They were facing each other, pressed up against the arms of the couch, legs sort of tangled together. They'd gone through most of the beer John had picked up and while neither was drunk, they were both buzzed enough to relax.

"Did you date in high school?" John asked.

Randy snorted. "Kids aren't really all that accepting of that sort of thing. Or at least they weren't in my school."

"So, what? You were a loner in school too? They knew?"

"There's only so many excuses you can make on why you won't go out," Randy stated. "Sides, I wasn't exactly the sex symbol I am now."

John rolled his eyes. "Well, good to know your ego got out intact."

Xxxxxxx

John had to suppress a groan when he slowly woke. There was a weight pressing against his chest and the pains from his match the night before hadn't completely abated. They wouldn't until he got a chance to work them out, something he would do before RAW that night.

He glanced to the side, to the clock and was mildly surprised at how early it was. It was still an hour and a half before he absolutely had to wake up and get ready.

The weight on his chest was revealed when he glanced down. Randy's head was resting above his heart, rising and falling with his breathing and one of Randy's arms had made its way around John's midsection.

John frowned. He vaguely remembered suggesting they get some sleep at one point the night before and he remembered offering to let Randy stay the night. He didn't remember how they'd gotten to their current position and figured it had happened while they both slept.

He considered waking Randy but…his alarm was set on his phone, they still had a couple of hours and, he decided, it wasn't entirely uncomfortable. He settled back down and drifted back to sleep with a small smile on his face.


	6. Nightmare

_He couldn't breathe. At least, he felt like he was suffocating as the body pressed down on him. Bigger than him. Always bigger and strong, rough fingers wrapped around his throat and then he really was suffocating, gasping for air-_

Randy woke with a start, sitting up in bed. His breath came out in sharp, little bursts and he brought his hands up, digging them into his scalp, trying to calm his heart and his breath. When he glanced around the room, he had a moment of disorientation before he remembered the night before.

He could hear the shower going through the closed bathroom door and he was grateful Cena wasn't in the room at that moment.

He sat on the bed for several minutes as familiar feelings invaded his chest. He hated it. He hated that feeling. He hated the dreams. He hated the way they made him feel. He hated even more that they weren't _just _dreams.

He'd never told anyone about them and he was so stupid…staying the night in Cena's room for the second time. He was lucky he hadn't woken the same way the last time. Rage welled as his mind went into flashback mode.

He did the only thing he could think to do. He bolted. He stood, grabbed his shoes and left the room before the shower turned off.

Xxxxxxxx

The mood back stage was decidedly somber when John made his way into the arena for RAW. He wasn't surprised. The end of the show would mark Shawn Michaels farewell speech and Shawn had been around a long time.

John's mind was elsewhere, though. He'd woken up that morning with Randy still wrapped around him and he had liked that feeling. He'd liked the feeling of the man's arm around his stomach, of his head above John's heart.

John had lain there for several minutes, not wanting to get up, not wanting to extract himself from Randy's grip. It was all he could think about…his changing relationship with Randy. It had felt right, having Randy in his bed.

Then, when he'd gotten into the shower and all he could imagine while he'd…relieved himself was Randy joining him, was Randy stepping under the water with him and wrapped those long fingers around him, he simply couldn't ignore it anymore.

The problem was, when he'd gotten out of the shower, Randy had been gone.

John skirted past the people in the halls. He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone else. He was agitated, even worried. In the weeks since he and Randy had started the strange new friendship, Randy hadn't once ran from his presence. In fact, John had gotten insight into just who Randy was outside the ring. He had been beginning to think that the guy who kicked people in the skull was a different person.

If anything, John wanted to learn more about this other person. The one who liked B-rated horror movies, nineties music, and had freely admitted to his high school crushes. The one who could sit with John on the couch with their legs tangled together and smile, really smile, while he told John about all this.

He couldn't help it. He wanted to be closer. At least, he freely admitted that to himself.

He didn't find Randy until after the first segment on RAW when he'd been told that he would have to choose his own tag team partner for a match against Jack Swagger and Batista. John passed by Randy's locker room and smiled. If he did this, it would be the first televised event that Randy and he tagged together on in a long time.

Xxxxxxxxx

"Hey," John called. The door had been open and John leaned against the frame. Randy was sitting on the bench, elbows on his knees, seemingly lost in thought. His head snapped up, however, at the sound of John's voice.

"Hey," he answered, eyeing John. The expression on his face was unreadable but his gray eyes were wary.

John debated with himself a moment. "So, you gonna be my partner tonight?" He asked casually. He could see the relief that passed over Randy's face when he didn't bring up his departure that morning.

Randy shrugged. "Sure."

Xxxxxxxxx

He wasn't disappointed. John couldn't help the smile when Randy's entrance music hit and Batista had a fit in the ring. John reflected that it was worth it to ask Randy just for that. The crowd certainly didn't share Batista's sentiments. They seemed pretty happy with John's choice.

Pretty soon, John and Randy were standing side by side in the ring. Batista was still yelling, still glaring at Randy like he'd committed a crime by agreeing to tag with John. In fact, when John and Randy had tagged together before against him, he'd acted the same.

"He really hates you," John said casually, leaning towards Randy.

A humorless grin formed on Randy's face and he kept his eyes on Batista. "Trust me. The feelings mutual."

"You want to start?" John offered after stripping himself of his shirt and they backed into their corners.

Randy shook his head, finally broke eye contact with Batista. "You start." He ducked under the rope, Batista did the same and a second later the match was under way.

Xxxxxxxxx

They won, of course. Pleasure at the win and at the chance to see Randy work, once again in his favor coursed through John afterwards. He'd felt that before, when he and Randy had tagged against Rhodes, DiBiase, and Batista. This time was no different.

He was even more convinced of his epiphany that morning. He hadn't been able to keep his eyes off Randy after tagging the man in. It wasn't just an appreciation of Randy's talent in the ring.

_Beautiful. _It was all he could think as he had watched Randy stalk around Jack Swagger, delivering deliberate blows. As he watched Randy meet Batista's eyes, daring him to interfere before dropping a knee to Swagger's chest.

The rumors about he and Randy were still running rampant backstage and for the first time, John wished they were true.

Xxxxxxxxx

Randy was dressed and ready to leave. He'd taken a shower already and he'd intended on leaving as soon as he'd gotten out but the small television was on in the corner of the room was on.

There was a small group of superstars watching. Randy had gotten out in just enough time to see the hug. His stomach clenched and for a moment he thought he might be sick at the sight of it.

Most days, Randy could see _him _in the hallways or out at ringside and be fine. The dreams were fucking with his head. He'd ditched John because of them.

He'd ignored what was happening before. He had no desire to watch Shawn Michaels little farewell speech but _he _was out there at ringside, out there pulling Michaels into a brotherly embrace.

Not for the first time, he wondered if Shawn _knew_…if he knew, would he let that happen?

Hate seeped into every part of his body. Still, after all those years, Randy hated _him. _He hated everything about the man. A small part of him even hated Shawn for not knowing. Still, he had to think Shawn didn't know because if he did and still let that embrace happen…

He really needed to get out. He managed to make it out to the parking lot without running into John. He was grateful for that, at least. The hatred was still pulsing in his veins and he didn't want to see John while it was still there, while he couldn't get rid of it.

Xxxxxxxx

John was disappointed by the time he made it back to the hotel. He hadn't been able to find Randy after their match. He'd been caught by Shawn backstage and, apparently he'd been distracted long enough for Randy to slip out of the arena.

John was beginning to wonder if Randy might be dodging him. It was paranoia, probably. Randy had agreed to the match, but John had known that there was something bothering him before it.

It put into focus, suddenly, just how much he didn't know about Randy. The little details he'd picked up over the past several weeks gave him no clue as to why Randy would have bolted from his room.

At first, he'd given thought to Randy simply being uncomfortable at the position they'd been in while sleeping but that made no sense. At least, it didn't when he thought about the other times they'd slept in the same bed over the weeks since they'd started this little friendship. Randy hadn't been uncomfortable then.

John went to sleep worried that night.

Xxxxxxx

Knocking woke him up. John groaned and lifted his head to glance at the clock. It was past three in the morning. John grumbled when the knocking continued and rolled out of bed, fully intending on letting whoever was at the door know just what he thought of being woken up so early in the morning.

However, when he did open the door, the words died on his tongue. Randy stood, leaning against the frame. He was slouched, his shoulders hunched, making him appear shorter than he actually was.

What really got John were his eyes, though. He looked exhausted. His eyes were a little bloodshot and the tiny smile on his face didn't reach them. John sighed and rubbed his own eyes.

"Hey," he said gruffly.

"I…uh, I can't sleep," Randy admitted quietly after a moment. He looked distinctly uncomfortable admitting it and there was some sort of plea on his face. John could practically hear him begging John not to ask _why_ he couldn't sleep.

John found he couldn't turn Randy away, not with that look on his face. He couldn't even be angry about the late wake up.

"Alright." John paused and opened the door wider. He shuffled back over to the bed and dropped down on his back, scooting up until his head hit the pillow again. Randy hesitated a moment before kicking off his shoes and getting in beside John.

Randy rolled onto his side and reached out to pull John close to him. John was mildly surprised at the action but didn't say anything.

"You ever going to tell me what happened today?" John asked after a few minutes.

Randy was silent for a while but he did answer. "Maybe…someday." A bit of humor entered his voice. "If you can put up with me for that long."

John smiled. "I think I can deal." He wrapped his own arm around Randy.

It felt right. They hadn't even kissed yet. John hadn't told Randy of his epiphany. They still didn't know each other as well as he would have liked but it was alright. John knew in that moment, lying there in bed with Randy, that they'd get there. He could wait.


	7. Something More

A slow, content smile spread across John's after waking up when he found Randy still there this time. Randy on his stomach on the other side of the bed. He still had the clothes on he'd shown up at John's door wearing. He was sleeping, soundly from what John could tell.

One of Randy's arms was still thrown over John's waist and his face was turned towards John on the pillow. John had such an incredibly strong urge to close the distance between them and to place a kiss on Randy's parted lips.

He didn't, of course. He wanted Randy completely conscious when he made that move. He had time, anyway. He just hoped Randy wouldn't be too adverse to it.

Xxxxxxxx

It was Randy who kissed him first, about a week and a half after he'd shown up at John's door at three in the morning. They were sitting on the bench in the locker room. Randy was lacing up his boots and John was watching Evan and Morrison talk on the other side of the room.

They'd spent a great deal of time together since Randy had shown up at his door. So much time, in fact, that John was beginning to get a bit frustrated with himself. He'd never been a coward but he'd chickened out, repeatedly, when he'd decided to make the first move.

As it turned out, he really didn't have anything to worry about and he wasn't the one who made the first move.

"You know, half the locker room thinks we're fucking," he blurted out suddenly when he saw Morrison's gaze dart over to them.

Randy paused, his hands stilling and he looked over at John. "I know," he stated simply.

"You think that's ridiculous?" John asked tentatively.

"I think sometimes this place is like being back in high school." There was a smile on Randy's face when he went back to his boots.

"Yeah. But you think…?" John trailed off; unsure of how to form the question or even if he should ask.

Randy finished with his boots, made sure his kneepads were in place before leaning close to John. "I think you shouldn't care so much what other people think."

"Right." John was a tiny bit disappointed. At least, he was until Randy leaned into his personal space and wrapped those long fingers around the back of John's neck, pulling him close. The kiss was brief, light and Randy pulled back before John could fully register it had happened. The smile on Randy's face was soft, his expression open.

"I like you too," he stated plainly. He reached for John's hand, turning it so he could see John's watch. "I have to go. Wish me luck." He hesitated a moment. "You gonna wait for me?"

And suddenly, Randy looked so unsure of himself that there was really only one way John could answer. "Of course."

He was smiling when Randy left the room and he totally didn't care what anyone who might have seen the kiss thought.

Xxxxxxxxx

He was nervous. The feeling invaded Randy and he fidgeted by his car, waiting impatiently for John. The kiss earlier hadn't exactly been a spontaneous decision. He'd seen the way John had been looking at him before and Randy had been thinking about it for a while.

Getting up the nerve to actually do it had been more difficult than he'd thought it would be. It wasn't as if he hadn't been with guys over the past few years. Cody wasn't the only person he'd taken back to his hotel room but this…this was different.

There was something different about this thing with John. Something that had him pacing nervously. Something that had him reluctant to initiate anything between them. Something that made his stomach tighten into knots and made him desperately wish he hadn't quit smoking.

He wasn't used to it. He hadn't felt anything for, well, really for anyone, since he'd first been moved up to RAW years ago. But he was feeling something for John, something other than anger.

It was that that had him reluctant to start anything. It was the reason why he had taken so long to take the first step. He'd learned years ago that getting into anything-even friendship-with anyone in the business was a stupid idea, a mistake.

But the weeks since John had found him stumbling along the hallway and not simply passed by like everyone else had were too difficult to ignore. The look in John's eyes lately was. He couldn't ignore it. He didn't want to.

He liked the feeling. He liked that John hadn't passed him by. He couldn't suppress the feelings he got when he thought about John getting hurt either. It was one of the reasons why he'd interfered when John had been getting double teamed.

He still couldn't quite believe that it was happening. He was sure that, like most of the guys in the locker room, John had hated him for a long time. Randy couldn't even blame him for it. He'd done a lot of horrible things to John when they'd been fighting over the title.

Lately, though, Randy found himself not even caring about the title. John had it but Randy had felt no urge to go after him for it. He wanted something else from John.

"Hey!" John's call brought him out of his thoughts and Randy couldn't help but to smile as he made his way over.

"Hey." The nervousness settled back into his stomach but he did leave with John and he couldn't regret it.

Xxxxxxxx

John was practically vibrating with energy by the time the show ended and he made his way out of the arena, towards the parking lot to meet Randy. He couldn't stop thinking about the kiss. In fact, it had been difficult to concentrate on his match.

Randy had admitted that he felt the same as John with that kiss and John couldn't help the smile that stayed on his face from the moment Randy had walked out of the locker room until he saw Randy again. Not even Batista could ruin his mood.

Nothing could ruin his mood. Any hesitation he'd felt about taking things further with Randy had flown from his mind the moment Randy's lips had connected with his. He didn't waste any time when they finally made it back to Randy's hotel room.

Xxxxxxx

Somehow, Randy ended up with his back pressed against his hotel room door, with John's lips attached to his collarbone. Apparently, John had been waiting just as long as he had. Apparently, the kiss in the locker room was the only invitation John needed.

Not that Randy was complaining. In fact, the noises that made their way past his lips as John pulled at his shirt, pressed his body against Randy's and let his lips roam held no protest in them.

Randy couldn't think, not with John's lips attacking his own and any protest he might have come up with against this flew from his mind and he found himself pulling John impossibly close, digging his fingers into John's shoulders.

John's hands found their way under Randy's black shirt and his fingertips grazed over the muscles on Randy's abdomen, leaving a trail of goose bumps behind. When John's fingers went to Randy's belt buckle, however, Randy's thoughts unclouded and he placed his own hands over John's, stilling them.

"What's wrong?" John asked, pulling back, confusion in his blue eyes.

"I just…" Randy bit his lip, already missing John's and wondered how to express his thoughts without making John think he was regretting what just happened. When he saw the look that in John's eyes, he could see his hesitation had done that job anyway.

"You don't want this?" John backed away from him, sat down on the bed. "I thought…"

"It's not that," Randy protested. "I wouldn't have kissed you in the first place if I didn't."

"Then what's the problem?"

Randy sighed and dropped down on the bed beside John. Pulling one leg up, he rested his chin on his knee and stared at John. "Maybe…maybe this is moving a little…fast," he explained hesitantly.

"Right." John frowned at him. "I guess we did leap over a few steps."

"I just…I don't…" Randy chewed his lip, frustrated with himself. "I'm not great at this. But I don't think I want this to just be about sex," he admitted. He'd done that before. Jumped into bed with someone. Most of the locker room was under the impression that he was a bit loose and he couldn't exactly argue with that assessment but what he was feeling for John…It was new and bright and he liked it. He liked the feeling he got whenever he was around John and he didn't want John to turn into another one of the distractions he'd indulged himself in over the years.

"I don't want that either," John said after a moment, bringing Randy out of his thoughts. "I don't do one night stands, Randy."

Randy nodded with a frown. He didn't want it to be that, for the first time in years. He'd had lots of sex before, but he hadn't had any real feelings attached to it in a long time.

"Don't worry," John spoke up again. When Randy looked up to meet his gaze again, John's was open with no trace of anger in them. He leaned forward and kissed Randy again, this one soft. John was smiling when he pulled back.

"I can wait."


	8. A Couple of Injuries

This story is set over a year ago…I'm not exactly sure of the timeline of Nexus' first attack on RAW but I am pretty sure it was around the time of Randy's feud with Edge after Edge got drafted to RAW in 2010. I'm pretty sure it was after Randy got injured in that match with Edge at Over the Limit…

I heard somewhere that John Morrison and John Cena were close friends in real life…

"I don't get it."

John glanced up from his phone, at the man that had stopped where he was sitting on the bench backstage. John Morrison stood next to the bench, a frown on his face.

"Don't get what?" John asked, only half paying attention to him as he replied to the text.

"You and Orton," Morrison clarified.

"You don't have to get it," John stated with a shrug. He didn't deny anything, especially since he was sure that Morrison had seen his and Randy's first kiss.

"Why would you want him?" Morrison pressed. When John finally looked up at him, he could see concern shining in Morrison's dark eyes. He'd been friends with the guy for a few years…in fact, he was one of the few people who hadn't believed the rumors and he and Randy.

"He's not as bad as people think, Johnny," John said.

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow. "So, he's not the guy who put you in the hospital? He's not the guy who went after Stephanie McMahon just to get to Triple H? He's not the man who-"

"Alright." John held up a hand, cutting him off. "He did do all those things but come on, Johnny. People do change. You used to be not such a nice guy either, if you remember?"

Morrison grimaced at the reminder, no doubt thinking of his time tagging with Miz. "How do you know he's actually changed and this isn't some ploy?"

John thought about how Randy had looked when he'd shown up at John's door after he couldn't sleep, he thought about the insecurity in Randy's eyes when he'd asked if they could take things slow.

"It's not a ploy," John stated firmly.

Morrison studied him a moment. "Okay." He dropped down on the bench beside John.

"Just okay?" John asked with a raised eyebrow.

Morrison shrugged. "It's not like I can tell you what to do."

"If it makes you feel any better, it came as a complete surprise to me too," John said with a smile.

"A good one?" Morrison asked skeptically.

"Actually, yes."

"Fine." Morrison dropped it after that and John was grateful. He wondered if he'd have to defend his actions to more people. Well, he had friends backstage but not many close ones. He frowned when he thought about his family. Now, that might be harder…

Xxxxxxxx

"I'm fine," Randy got out through gritted teeth, but he did hiss in pain when the trainer prodded at his shoulder.

"Right." John chewed his lip as he watched. Randy's match with Edge had taken a bad turn about halfway through and John had been worried since. Concern had sprung up as soon as he'd seen Randy pull up short from performing his finishing move, as soon as he'd seen Randy holding his arm, the pain on his face…John had to force himself not to run down to ringside.

Randy was so obviously in pain, despite his protests against that fact and John wouldn't leave his side, hadn't seen Randy had finally made it backstage.

Xxxxxxxx

"It's not bad," Randy said, not for the first time, shifting where he was sitting against the headboard. The sling held his arm to his body and he watched John with some amusement. It was frustrating, sure, but Randy was feeling pretty lucky in the moment. He'd only be out of action for a month or so. At least he didn't need surgery this time.

"I know," John answered with a nod, finally sitting next to Randy.

"You were worried about me," Randy said with a grin, shifting so that he could face John.

John shrugged. "Course I was," he mumbled even as a slight blush rose on his cheeks.

Randy's smile only widened and he couldn't help but to lean into o kiss John. He hadn't had anybody truly worry about him in a long time.

Xxxxxxxxx

"I can't believe it," Randy said, staring at the screen.

"Me either," John agreed with a shake of his head. "I guess that's one problem I don't have to worry about."

"Guess so." Randy tilted his head. Onscreen, Batista was having a fit in the ring. "You think he's serious?"

"He quit," John said with a shrug. "If they take it seriously…"

Randy nodded. He'd hated Batista for years. He definitely wouldn't be losing any sleep over the man quitting and in such a childish way too.

"Guess that means you're in the fatal four way," John pointed out.

"Yeah." Randy eyed him. It would be the first match they'd be booked in against each other since they'd started the thing between them. It had been going well, better than that actually and Randy wasn't willing to do anything to screw it up.

Randy was a little surprised he'd been booked for the match at all, much less a match against Batista that would have taken place if Batista hadn't quit.

He knew that McMahon hated him but he _had _separated his shoulder in his last match with Edge and that wasn't completely healed just yet. He smiled when he thought about how John had been after the injury, at how worried he'd been…

"We should make a deal now," he spoke up, looking over to meet John's gaze.

"A deal?" John asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, I mean…whatever happens during that match…it's not going to change things, right?"

"Of course not," John said immediately. "It was bound to happen sooner or later, wasn't it?"

"Unless one of us gets drafted, I'd say yes."

John groaned. "Don't jinx us, man."

Randy rolled his eyes and slapped John on the shoulder. "Hey, at least we don't have to worry about another draft for a year."

John glared at him, although there was no heat in it and Randy only laughed in response.

Xxxxxxxxx

Randy was asleep when the attack happened. The television in his hotel room was still on, still tuned to RAW but Randy had fallen asleep about half way through it. Edge's attack on him from the week before had left his already injured shoulder screaming in pain and John had insisted he stay in the hotel and that he take a few of those little pills the doctor had prescribed.

Randy hadn't wanted to think about how easily he had given in to those demands when they came from John.

The pills had left him drowsy. He'd intended on staying up to watch John's match but had drifted off to sleep anyway. He missed it all. The rookies from NXT attacked decimated the ring; put both John and CM Punk on stretchers. Randy slept right through it.

Xxxxxxxxx

Randy didn't notice when he first woke. His head felt like it was stuffed with wool and he took a moment to reflect on how much he hated that feeling. But at least he had slept. The clock on the nightstand on his side of the bed read eight o'clock. He'd slept through the night.

He closed his eyes and laid there for a few minutes in an attempt to quell the disorientation he'd felt upon waking. Finally, he reached out with his good arm, expecting the feel of John's skin under his fingers but all he came in contact with was the sheets.

Frowning, he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes before looking to John's side of the bed, which was empty. For a moment, he entertained the idea that John might have gotten his own room.

They still hadn't taken things all the way yet and they did still get separate rooms sometimes. Still, John had said that he'd be there after RAW ended and he hadn't gotten a separate room when they'd checked in.

Worry began to settle into his gut the longer he sat there and he reached for his phone, scrolling down to John's name quickly and hitting send.

_"You've reached John Cena. Unfortunately I seem to be otherwise engaged so leave a message!" _

"Dammit." He closed his phone. John's had gone straight to voicemail, which meant he had it turned off. If it were anybody else, he might not have worried but John was probably the most considerate person Randy had ever dated.

If John said he was going to be somewhere, he showed up and if he couldn't, he always called. The possibilities of what might have happened during the night ran through his mind. His first thought was that he'd done something to piss John off but he couldn't think of anything. Things between them were good.

That left something that kept John from being there and, after concentrating for a moment, Randy couldn't remember seeing the rest of RAW. He'd fallen asleep during, before John's match.

Lurching to his feet, Randy went to his and John's things, pulling out the laptop that John liked to carry with him and turning it on. It didn't take long to find what he was looking for.

His mouth went dry as he watched the NXT rookies attack John and he was shaking with anger and worry when he finally closed the laptop again. Quickly, he grabbed some clothes. It wasn't until he was lacing his tennis shoes that he stopped upon the realization that he had no idea where John was or how to get a hold of him.

John had been carried out on a stretcher so he was probably still in the hospital. Nausea rolled in his gut when he wondered if John was seriously injured. Randy _had _to see him and he ran through his options quickly. Sitting around and waiting for John to call him wasn't an option, especially since he had no idea if John even could call.

His imagination went into overdrive in that moment. It wasn't as if John hadn't had serious injuries before. He grimaced as he remembered a time, back during their first feud, when Randy had put the man in the hospital himself.

But this could be so much worse than a torn muscle. A decision made, Randy stood and left his room. He couldn't call anyone. Most of John's friends hated his guts. Still, he had seen John Morrison go into his hotel room the day before and he knew they were pretty good friends…

Xxxxxxxx

John Morrison groaned in frustration when pounding on his door woke him up. He lifted his head to look at the clock and sighed. He'd only went to bed a couple of hours earlier. He buried his head in the pillow, hoping that whoever it was would get lost but finally had to admit defeat and stumble towards the door when they didn't.

He only paused to pull on a pair of pants before he opened it and blinked in surprise, suddenly very alert at the sight of Randy Orton. The anger he had felt last night came back full force and he glared at Orton.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He asked.

"I need to know where John is," Orton blurted out quickly.

Morrison's eyes narrowed. "You should have been there last night," he pointed out angrily. He expected Orton to get defensive or angry himself. What he didn't expect was the flash of guilt in Orton's gray eyes or the words that escaped his mouth next.

"I_ know. _I fell asleep. I didn't even find out until this morning."

Most of John's anger died down at the look in Orton's eyes. "He's going to be fine. He's got a concussion and he's probably going to be sore for a while. They're only keeping him because of the concussion." John couldn't help but to notice just how much tension seemed to leak out of Orton's body at his words.

"Where is he?" Randy asked again and the look in his eyes then was almost pleading.

John sighed. "Give me a minute." He went back in to grab a shirt. He probably wouldn't be able to get back to sleep anyway.


	9. Hurt and Comfort

This is a short chapter and the start of my reason for upping the rating on this fic. It's not too terribly graphic, in fact I'm not even sure if this even deserves an M rating yet, and I kind of suck at writing these kinds of scenes but I hope you guys like it. Happy Halloween!

"I can't believe Johnny took you," John repeated. He'd wrapped his arms around Randy's shoulders on their way into the hotel room and was staring up at Randy with glassy eyes.

"So you've said," Randy answered, maneuvering John over to the bed.

"He _hates _you," John insisted, sitting when Randy pushed him to. They'd given something to John for the bruised ribs after they'd made sure the concussion wasn't serious and he was still a little loopy from it.

"Maybe I changed his opinion." Randy reached for the hem of John's white shirt, carefully pulling it up John's body and coaxing the man into raising his arms. He grimaced when the bruises that had bloomed on John's chest came into view. Morrison had said John was a little banged up. Morrison had a screwed up sense of the word 'little'.

He didn't tell John that the ride to the hospital had been more than awkward. Morrison still didn't trust him and had even given Randy one of those warnings that he was expecting to hear from John's brothers if John ever told his family about them.

He had melted instantly, however, when John had clung to him the first moment he'd seen Randy and then had refused to leave with anybody else.

"I used to hate you," John said, bringing Randy out of his thoughts.

"I know." Randy knelt in front of him to take his shoes off. John reached for him clumsily, fingers finally curling around the sides of Randy's neck.

"Don't hate you anymore."

Randy smiled. "That's good to know." He pushed John until he was lying down and then kicked off his shoes and got into the bed himself. He pulled John close, wrapping his arms around the man. John buried his face in Randy's neck and one of his hands went to rest on Randy's hip.

The entire day had been awful. He never wanted to feel what he'd felt that morning, when he'd woken up without John there. He never wanted to feel that panic he'd felt after watching the attack John had suffered on RAW.

John was asleep in minutes but Randy didn't let him go. He ran a hand softly over John's hair.

"You scared the shit out of me today," he whispered after a moment. John shifted and his grip on Randy's hip tightened.

Xxxxxxxxx

John felt _awful. _He had to suppress a groan as he woke slowly. His entire body hurt, his muscles ached fiercely. He felt like he'd been run over by a truck, or maybe Big Show.

It wasn't the first time, and wouldn't be the last, that he'd woken up feeling like it.

Well, at least he was warm. He was surrounded by warmth, the kind of warmth that a comforter definitely couldn't generate. He vaguely remembered Randy coming to pick him up from the hospital and Randy was there when he opened his eyes.

John took a moment to appreciate the beauty before him. Randy's lips were parted slightly, his face smooth and untroubled. He was sleeping on his side, on his good shoulder and his arm was bent, fingers lax but tangled in John's, like he'd been gripping John's hand when he'd fallen asleep. The sweats Randy was wearing had slid low on his hips, his hipbone on full display.

John really needed to get up and work out some of his aches. The longer he waited, the harder it would be but he couldn't force himself to move just then. He untangled his fingers from Randy but didn't let go of him. He lightly traced the dark tribal designs that stained Randy's wrist, that overlapped the faded ink of the newer tattoos.

A small smile formed on Randy's face, giving John notice that he had woken at the touch. When Randy opened his eyes, however, the smile fell from his face and his gaze was drawn to John's torso, to the bruises he knew were there.

They didn't speak but somehow John found himself on his stomach with Randy hovering over him. Randy's hands were on his skin then, pressing down in certain places, deftly working out the knots in John's muscles while avoiding the bruised areas of his skin. He felt Randy's lips on his skin, his breath ghosting over the most sensitive spots.

Randy's lips worked their way down John's back, following his hands. Once he reached the small of John's back, he gently turned John over and he worked his way back up, his lips brushing over the bruises that had formed on John's chest.

John's eyes were closed during all of it, the feel of Randy's warm lips on his skin both relaxing and incredibly arousing, the ache of the bruises almost completely forgotten. John managed to crack his eyes open when Randy was level with his face and there was a question there in those gray eyes, a question in those skilled hands as one of them rested at the hem of John's boxers, a question John couldn't possibly say no to. As if he could ever say no to Randy now.

Randy, of course, saw the answer in his eyes and his hand slipped into John's already tented boxers. Then his long, thin fingers wrapped themselves around John, sliding up and down expertly, tugging at his most sensitive skin.

Randy lowered his head again, lips once again on John's skin.

It didn't take long. The combination of just how long he'd been waiting for something like this to happen, and of Randy's lips, of what Randy had been doing to him since he'd woken was a little too much.

Randy's hand twisted just right on an upstroke, his teeth grazed one of John's nipples and John was thrown over the edge.

"Wow, okay," was all he could manage when he came down from the high. Randy was at eye level again. "What brought that on?"

There was a fierceness; protectiveness in Randy's eyes that hadn't been there before. "You scared the shit out of me," he said.

Randy kissed him then, kissed him with a new sort of feeling. John melted into the kiss the same way he had Randy's hands.


	10. Control

Uh, guys, Sorry. I've been sick. This chapter is kind of short…

"Hey, John!"

The voice stopped him in his tracks and he turned, a smile already forming on his face. "Hey, man," he said as Hunter made his way over. The halls of the arena were pretty deserted this early in the day. He'd told Randy he'd meet him there.

"How you feeling?" John asked when Hunter stopped in front of him, a note of concern entering his voice. The injury that had put the older man out of action had required surgery, he knew.

"Better, thanks. You? I saw what those rookies did."

John shrugged. "I'm good now." It had been a few weeks.

"Good." He reached forward and patted John on the shoulder. Neither of them noticed the other person until Randy was beside them. John had a moment to smile before surprise took over when Randy grabbed Hunter's arm and forcefully pushed him away from John, smoothly stepping in between the two men.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He asked, rage in his voice and dancing in his eyes.

"Randy…" John started, a sigh escaping him. He knew that Randy and Hunter had hated each other for years and, as personal as he and Randy's feuds had gotten, they were nothing compared to Randy and Hunters.

"Just visiting," Hunter answered Randy, the same hatred warring with something else, something John couldn't decipher, in his eyes as he stared at Randy.

"And here I was hoping you'd never be back."

"Don't be a dick," John spoke up softly, watching Randy, irritated at his attitude. "We were just talking."

"Right." And John didn't miss the actual look of hurt in Randy's gray eyes at John's words. "Fine." He turned after a moment, walking away from them both.

John stared after him, a little stunned. He wondered if that was how it went every time Hunter and Randy bumped into each other in the halls.

"You and Orton?" Hunter asked with a raised eyebrow.

John shrugged but didn't deny it. Everyone already knew. Morrison wasn't the only one who had seen their first kiss and even if no one had seen it, the rumors were still running wild.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Randy sat on a bench in the locker room, lacing up his boots. His movements were quick and jerky, his mouth was pressed into a thin line. His entire body was practically vibrating. He was angry…he was fucking pissed and it wasn't the cold, almost detached anger he had gotten used to feeling over the past several years.

His relationship with John had perpetuated a change in him that went down to the very core of his being. He hadn't felt so much in such a long time, since before…

His hands were shaking when he brought them up to his head. He took a few deep breathes, trying to calm himself down. He'd been angry before at what had happened to John. He'd also been worried and terrified...

The NXT rookies, Nexus they'd dubbed themselves after the first week, had attacked a few other people, tried with John again and Randy was angry about that and he was constantly worried about them succeeding.

He hadn't worried about anyone, even himself, in such a long time that it left him feeling a bit out of control. It sent him reeling and he had no idea what to do with it.

Maybe that was why, when he'd made his way down the hall of the arena for RAW, and he'd seen John talking to _him_ it had affected him so much. John, as usual had been speaking animatedly, using his hands and _he _had reached over, placed one hand on John's shoulders and Randy had nearly lost it then and there.

Hunter. God, Randy had wanted to walk over to them and smash Hunter's face into the brick wall for _touching _John, the flashbacks from years before haunting him.

Fuck, he had enough to worry about without adding Hunter to that list again.

"What's the matter with you?" John's voice came from the doorway and Randy jerked his head up. John was leaning against the frame, arms crossed, studying him.

"Nothing." His tone was clipped.

"Right. Look, I know you don't like Hunter-"

"I fucking _hate_ him," Randy interrupted, every bit of that feeling in his voice.

"Don't you think enough is enough, Randy?" John asked, frustration leaking into his tone. "You went after the guy's family the last time you fought. His _wife_. What the hell happened to make you hate him this much…for this long?"

Randy opened his mouth, even considered, for just a second, telling John the truth, if only to keep John away from Hunter because he wouldn't admit it but it had terrified him as much as it had angered him, seeing the two of them in the hall together.

"Please don't tell me this is about Evolution," John said after a moment. Randy tensed at the reminder of the group that had started his career, the group that had set him down a track that John had finally derailed. And it had only taken six years.

"That was years ago, Randy. So, he kicked you out of the group, and cost you the title. It was a long time ago. You should be over that by now."

Randy stilled completely at the words. The rational part, and that was a small part because Randy was rarely rational, knew that John was only saying it because he didn't _know. _He had no idea what had happened back then. No one did, except for Randy, Hunter, and Batista. Hell, Ric hadn't even known and he'd been in the group.

The bigger part of him, however, the part of him that had been fighting to gain control of emotions he wasn't used to feeling, was even angrier. Without knowing it, John had just trivialized the very worst year of Randy's life.

The tenuous control Randy had managed to obtain on his emotions since seeing Hunter and John in the hall snapped. He stood and started towards the door.

"Fuck. Off." He growled before shoving past John.

Xxxxxxxx

As soon as the words had left John's mouth, and he'd seen Randy's expression shift, he knew that he'd said something wrong. John ran a hand over his face after Randy left. Randy hadn't directed that kind of anger on John in a while.

John sat down where Randy had just been and rested his elbows on his knees. Things had been going so well. John had been seeing such a different side of Randy since they'd gotten together that sometimes he almost forgot that there was another side.

They hadn't taken things much further after what Randy had initiated after John got out of the hospital but John had been happy enough with how things stood.

Now, though…John had to think this behavior was odd. Randy hadn't even shown the same kind of raging hatred for Rhodes and DiBiase and that had happened not too long ago. When he'd seen the look on Randy's face after he'd suggested that he should have been over what had happened with Evolution, he'd known he was missing something.

Randy had been vindictive and downright cruel with Hunter during their feuds, more so than with anybody else he'd fought.

And John did think that there had to be something that had turned Randy from a, yes arrogant, but essentially happy young man into what he'd been over the last few years. John hadn't been on RAW back when Randy was in Evolution but he had watched it and, while Randy might have been a bit of a dick back then, he had at least smiled at times.

Then John thought about the nightmares. He'd never said anything to Randy but he did know about them. Randy had slept in his bed pretty much every night. It was impossible to not know that he had nightmares. He'd just been hoping that once they knew each other better, Randy would tell him without John having to press him.

Guilt settled into John's gut. What if whatever was causing the nightmares had happened while Randy was in Evolution?

If he was right, he had just unintentionally made light of something that had to of been pretty damn awful for Randy to still be affected by it after six years.

John got to his feet and started out of the room, unwilling to let some stupid misunderstanding ruin what had developed between him and Randy.


	11. Hunter

So, since my last chapter was so short and I'm still a little sick, I thought I'd give you guys this little chapter to go along with it before I try and sleep off this cold that just won't seem to go away. This chapter is kind of depressing…

_Randy shifted uncomfortably on the couch, biting his lip to keep the pain from showing on his face and trying to pay attention. Hunter was talking, rambling about his title match and Randy was squeezed in between Dave and Ric. _

_He hated it. He hated that he had no way out without going through Hunter. He hated the look on Dave's face. The son of a bitch _knew. _He knew what was happening. He hated the fact that there had been one point where he'd actually thought Dave was his friend…_

Randy braced his hands on the walls of the shower. The heat of the water was just below scalding but it still couldn't distract him from the memories, or from what had happened with John.

He'd avoided the locker room until he was sure that most everyone had left, even considered just going straight to a hotel and getting his own room. He wasn't angry at John, not really. What had happened earlier had been an uncontrolled reaction to what John had said.

John had left already, Randy knew that. After he'd calmed down a little bit, he'd sent John a text, apologized for his reaction and asked for a little time. John had agreed, something that Randy was grateful for.

He wasn't ready to face John just yet, wasn't ready for the questions he knew John would ask. Hell, he wasn't sure if he'd ever be ready to answer those questions. He'd never told anyone before. Hadn't even entertained the idea.

Randy rested his forehead against the wall between his hands, let the water roll down his back. Sometimes, he wished he'd listened to his father when the man had told him not to go into wrestling.

He'd been so stupid, so fucking naïve, when he'd first been drafted to RAW. He'd been stupid with Hunter, believed something he shouldn't have and it had cost him too much. It had almost cost him his sanity.

With a sigh, Randy made an effort to force his thoughts away from that and turned off the shower. He grabbed a towel, drying himself off before making his way out of the showers and over to his bag. He had just buttoned up his jeans and pulled on a shirt when the door opened.

Randy tensed and his fist tightened as Hunter filled the doorway. The shaking began there, in his hands when Hunter stepped into the room and closed the door. The familiar mix of rage and fear burned through his body.

Xxxxxxxxx

John lay back on his bed with a sigh, dropping his phone beside him. He'd searched for Randy after what had happened but hadn't found him before he'd received a text. It was short. Randy had apologized, then asked for space to work a few things out.

John had agreed but it had killed him to do so. He wanted to run straight to Randy. He wanted to take away whatever bad memories that were affecting him so horribly. But he could understand if Randy needed some time to calm down, to gain control again and John did not want to push him too much. He was terrified that if he did, he'd lose him.

Still, it was hard. He'd never done sitting still well and he hated that there was something hurting Randy that he couldn't do anything about. He hated that he had hurt Randy with a few thoughtless words. He was hoping, though, that Randy would come to him.

Whatever had happened had to of been bad and obviously Randy had never dealt with it properly.

Xxxxxxxx

"We need to talk," Hunter started. He didn't move from the door but he was still blocking it. Randy's eyes narrowed.

The fear was something he just couldn't seem to help. He supposed it would always be there when he was alone with Hunter. The man was his walking, talking nightmare. Still, the anger did manage to overpower the fear.

"We don't talk," Randy said after a moment. He didn't turn his back on Hunter, would never do that again. He kept wary gray eyes on the man, waiting for what would happen next.

"What you did to Stephanie-"

"Did you seriously come in here to lecture me about that?" Randy interrupted, incredulously. "We beat the shit out of each other for months. Get over it."

"I could say the same thing to you," Hunter pointed out, his eyes flashing.

Randy tensed further. "Does Stephanie know all the details of your past?" He asked quietly. "Does Shawn?"

Hunter sighed. "Look, I didn't come here to fight with you."

"Then you shouldn't have come," Randy countered. He crossed his arms over his chest, his posture still defensive.

Hunter paused, his own hands going to rest on his waist. "What I did to you didn't give you the right to go after Stephanie. She was innocent in that." He held up his hands. "I know it doesn't make us even-"

"Even? You want us to be even?" Randy interrupted again. He forgot his fear in that moment, stepping closer to Hunter. "Lose her, Hunter. Lose Shawn. Lose your sanity. Walk around with the knowledge that the job you used to love and everything _inside _of you is tainted with something dirty, with the knowledge that you might never feel clean again. Then we'll be even."

Randy deflated as soon as the last word left his mouth and he stepped back again. Suddenly, all he felt was tired, _exhausted. _And he wanted John, more than anything in that moment. He wanted the safety and comfort that John had always offered, that the man in front of him never had.

"I'm sorry," Hunter said so quietly that Randy barely heard him, a stunned look in his eyes at what Randy had said.

Randy laughed, high and almost hysterical. "It doesn't matter. It's not good enough." He grabbed his bag and Hunter did step aside, let him leave.

Xxxxxxxx

John was still awake when the knock came on his door and his hope from before was answered when he opened the door and Randy was standing there. He was relieved, at first, that Randy had come, and then concerned.

Randy looked wrecked. He was slumped against the doorframe, a frown on his face. His gray eyes were shiny with what John suspected were unshed tears. The hand he had brought up to grip the doorframe was shaking.

"Randy, what…?"

Randy shook his head. "Could you ask me later?"

John nodded and then he pulled Randy into his arms. Randy sank into the embrace, clutching at him almost desperately and John held him tighter, maneuvering them both until they fell on the bed, Randy landing half on top of him, burying his head in John's shoulder.

John held on him just as tightly through the night.


	12. Confess

So, there are some vague descriptions of abuse in this chapter, as a warning…

Xxxxxxx

Randy was comfortable but not sleeping. He hadn't slept at all. John had finally closed his eyes several hours after Randy had shown up at the hotel and Randy had been watching him sleep since.

He was simply too terrified to fall asleep after his encounter with Hunter. The memories were still pressing in on him and he knew that if he slept, he'd have nightmares. He always did. He hated it, hated thinking of Hunter when he was in bed with John, hated thinking of that man when John had his arms wrapped around him.

He could never seem to stop.

He hated that Hunter had gotten a happy ending when he could never seem to. He'd been so enraged about that that he'd gone after Stephanie last year. Hunter was right about her. He seriously doubted that she knew about what had happened. Stephanie could be a manipulative bitch when she wanted to be but even she had her limits.

At the time, though, it hadn't mattered if she'd known or not. It had only mattered that she was with Hunter, that they were happy and making Hunter pay for even daring to have that kind of happiness was the only thing that he had been able to think about.

He pressed himself closer to John and made an effort to banish the memories. Sometimes, when he was with John, when John was so close, it would work.

Xxxxxxxx

John watched Randy out of the corner of his eye as he pulled a shirt from his bag. He hadn't been surprised that Randy had up for hours by the time John woke up. Randy had been quiet. John still wasn't going to press him. Not yet.

He stood from the bed, held out a hand. "Ready?"

Randy forced a smile, nodded. "Yeah."

Xxxxxxxx

Hunter found John in the locker room. He leaned against the doorway for a minute, watched the other man prepare for the show. He knew Randy hadn't told John exactly what had gone down between them. He was sure that if Randy had, John would have already come looking for him.

"I've been thinking about a retirement," he spoke up finally, startling John, who jerked his head up and stared.

"What?"

"For me," Hunter clarified. "I've been thinking about retirement."

John blinked, confused. He looked like someone who had walked in on the middle of a conversation which, really, he had. This particular one had started nearly eight years ago, when Hunter had first formed Evolution.

"_You're _going to retire?" John asked, confused and just a little incredulous.

Hunter grabbed one of the chairs in the room, pulled it over so that he could sit in front of John. "Thinking about it." He sat down, leaned back and watched John.

"Why?"

Hunter shrugged. "Got kids now, a wife, and I've pretty much done everything there is to do here." He paused. "And then there's Randy."

John tensed visibly. "Something happened between you and Randy." There was no question in his voice. He knew something had happened, he just didn't know what.

"I've always been an asshole, Cena," Hunter stated. "I was when I married Stephanie the first time. But I was at my worst when I formed Evolution. Steph and I were on the outs then. Shawn hated me. Everyone hated me…"

"For good reason," John pointed out.

Hunter shrugged. That didn't really matter, not now. "I did a lot of bad things before forming Evolution but none of that came close to the things I did after."

"What'd you do?" John asked, eyes wide and waiting.

"Don't think I should be the one to tell you about that." And he just couldn't. Couldn't even think about it. When he did, it was like watching a movie on a person who looked like him, had the same voice, but wasn't.

It was him, though. And when he thought about those times, he knew with sickeningly awful clarity just what he was capable of. Nobody knew about it. He knew Randy wouldn't tell anyone. He'd known that back then.

"I'm not justifying the things I did back then…the person I was." He frowned a moment, trying to put his thoughts into words. "Shawn, Steph…my kids. They changed everything for me."

John rested his elbows on his knees, ran a hand over his mouth. "Why are you telling me all this?"

"Because when he finally tells you everything, I'm pretty sure you're going to want to kill me." Hunter stood. He was telling the truth. Seeing his daughter being born, Stephanie, Shawn they had changed him but he doubted that would matter when John found out what he'd done to Randy.

John froze at the words. He kind of wanted to kill Hunter then, just for the vagueness. For Randy's nightmares, that he was now sure came from Hunter. But Hunter was out the door a few seconds later and the urge passed. Suddenly, all he wanted to do was find Randy.

Xxxxxxxx

Randy's nerves were absolutely fried. He hadn't slept since his encounter with Hunter. He'd seen the worry in John's eyes countless times and he didn't know if he could answer it. He'd tried to start that talk several times but had ended up chickening out.

That kind of pissed him off too. _You're a fucking coward. _The vicious, bitter thought was directed inward, at himself. He couldn't even say it, couldn't admit what had happened to him to John. Didn't want to see the pity in John's eyes, didn't want to pull all those memories further to the surface than they already were.

But they were there anyway and he had to do something about it. He needed to before they consumed him again, before he ended up right back to where he'd been before he and John had gotten together.

Xxxxxxxx

The hotel room was completely dark when Randy spoke up finally. The only light in the room filtered in through the gap in the curtains, coming from the lights of the city and the moon. He could barely see Randy's face and he had been about to try to sleep.

"I loved him." The words were quiet, quiet enough that John almost missed them. He sucked in a breath, the idea of sleep completely abandoned.

"I loved him," Randy repeated. "We were together for a year…"

John said nothing. He was too afraid to, afraid that if he did Randy would stop. Instead, he intertwined his fingers with Randy's and squeezed, let Randy know he was listening.

"It took a while to figure out that he would never feel the same way. All he cared about was the title back then, about his career. He hated everyone back then." Randy paused and began playing with John's fingers. "He did things…knocked me around, stuff like that. I hated myself for staying, always thought I'd be stronger than that. But I was so…isolated. The entire locker room hated Evolution and I didn't have any friends outside. I was stuck and the longer I stayed, the worse it got."

John squeezed his hand and tried to push aside the rising anger towards Hunter.

Randy paused again, let out a breath, and this time, when he spoke, his voice came out shaky. "After I won the title and he kicked me out of Evolution…publicly, I thought it was over but he came and found me. He was so pissed off about it, even more so after Shawn and Jericho and some of the other guys helped me go after them. He found me…" Randy trailed off, closed his eyes. "Guess he'd thought I'd still want him even after all of it…that I'd still…But I said no, tried to fight him off." Randy squeezed John's hand tightly and when he opened his eyes, John could see the tears shining there even in the darkness.

"I said no but it didn't matter, he didn't listen."

It took a moment for those words to sink in, for what they meant to sink in. John's first reaction was anger, rage even, all directed at Hunter. The very idea made him sick and he wished that he had smashed Hunter's face in when they'd spoken earlier.

His second reaction came when Randy started to pull away and he realized that maybe he had been silent for a little bit too long. He gripped Randy's hand tighter, pulled him back.

"I'm so sorry," he managed to choke out and then he wrapped his arms tightly around Randy. Randy was tense for a few moments before he relaxed into the embrace, his whole body trembling.

Randy clung to him, buried his head John's shoulder and, for the first time, let himself cry. John never let him go.


	13. Someday

This is my last chapter for this one guys. I don't like writing epic length fics and this was just supposed to be about them getting together and Randy's face turn. Hope you guys like this. I always seem to have more trouble ending my fics than starting them.

Xxxxxxxxx

It wasn't until after Randy had fallen asleep that John let himself be angry. It burned through him like fire when he thought about his last conversation with Hunter. He understood now the guilt he'd seen in Hunter's eyes, but it didn't do anything for the anger.

Even if Hunter wasn't that guy anymore, even if he had changed and he genuinely felt guilty for what he'd done, it didn't change the fact that he _had _done it. Now, John had a new insight into who Randy was and he hated it. He hated Hunter for it.

John pulled Randy closer to him and tried to push the anger down. Despite how much he would really like to get his hands on Hunter, he hoped the man followed through on his retirement plans, if only so that Randy wouldn't have to see his face backstage anymore.

But if Hunter did ever come near Randy again, John would make sure he regretted it.

Xxxxxxxxx

Randy's leg bounced nervously, his eyes trained on the screen, waiting. John's entrance music would hit soon and then it would start. He was worried. Worried about this plan. John had assured him that he'd gotten backup but when it came down to it, John was the only person Randy trusted backstage. Still, there were apparently a lot of the guys who both liked John and hated the group that had been attacking superstars randomly over the past several weeks.

He'd go down to the ring even if the others bailed, though. He couldn't fathom not doing it, not now. Not after everything that had happened between he and John. His feelings for John had only deepened after he'd told John about his past with Hunter.

Saying out loud, telling John didn't make what happened disappear but something had unwound in him at the confession. There had been a part of him that had been worrying about what John's reaction would be to it.

At the very least, he didn't need to worry about that anymore. And maybe it had helped-a little-telling John and then breaking down right after. He'd never done that before, not even directly after it had happened.

He felt lighter, if only from the freedom from the worry he'd been feeling about John's reaction.

It was only a few minutes later when John was down at ringside, a few after that when Nexus came out to the ring and then he was heading out there too.

Randy and John were the last in the ring. For the first time, Nexus attacked and got their asses kicked for it. Randy stood across from John, smiled, and felt even lighter.

Xxxxxxx

"They're not going to back off, you know?" Randy asked when they made it backstage, although the smile hadn't left his face.

"I know, but at least we can give them a taste of their own medicine now."

Randy nodded. "We'll win in the end. You'll win." There was confidence in his voice and in his eyes when he met John's gaze.

John couldn't help but to smile in return. "Since when did you turn into an optimist?"

Randy shrugged. "It's your fault."

John's smile widened. "Well, I guess I don't mind taking the blame for that."

Randy snorted and stepped into his personal space. He kissed John lightly. "Meet me back at the hotel?" He asked when he pulled away.

"Of course," John answered. That was a given.

Randy waved on his walk back to the locker room. John watched him go, the smile never leaving his face. It was hard to come down from that high. He and Randy were better than ever, they were finally getting Nexus on the run…

"So, I guess I can't project disapproval anymore," a voice came from his right and John glanced over at Morrison.

"I wish you wouldn't," John admitted. "I get you don't like him…"

"It was never about liking him. It was about worry that he was going to stomp all over you…" Morrison trailed off, studied John a moment. "You actually look happy, though."

"I am happy. Mostly."

"Mostly?" Morrison raised an eyebrow, question in his eyes but John only shook his head. He was still worried about Randy after what he'd revealed, still beyond angry at Hunter.

He'd even considered making a few calls to a few people. Namely, Stephanie and Shawn. He'd never felt so vindictive than after Randy told him about that stuff and he'd thought about Hunter having his happy ending with his wife and kids.

Randy was the only thing that stopped him from doing it. He knew Randy would be furious with him if he did. It had taken a great deal of time and effort for Randy to open up to him. Telling anyone what Randy had revealed would, he knew, be the fastest way to lose what he had with Randy.

It just didn't seem fair to him, at all. Hunter had done something beyond horrible and didn't seem to be suffering for it at all. No, all that suffering fell on Randy's shoulders. It wasn't fair.

He desperately wanted to do something about it. He wasn't even sure if he was really helping Randy. He hadn't even been able to form words after Randy had told him everything, he'd only found it in him to wrap his arms around Randy in a hug.

"John?" Morrison brought him out of his thoughts. "What the hell's going on?"

"Nothing," John managed, finally finding his voice. "You were right, I am happy."

"Well, you looked happy a few minutes ago. Now, not so much." Morrison was frowning at him.

"Just…have some things on my mind." He patted Morrison on his shoulder. "See you later, Johnny."

Xxxxxxxxx

Randy's lips were on his as soon as he made it into the hotel room, his hands going to John's belt as he pulled him towards the bed. As usual, John did get lost in the kiss for a few minutes but when he felt one of Randy's hands slip into his jeans, he abruptly pulled away and grabbed a hold of Randy's wondering hands.

"Wait." John forced himself to take a step back.

"What's the problem?" Randy asked with a frown. He was sitting on the bed, staring up at John.

"I just…" John trailed off, unsure of how to put what he was thinking into words. "Don't you think we should wait…"

"We have been waiting," Randy pointed out. "I think it's time we should stop."

John blinked. "Stop? You mean you want-" He gestured to the bed.

"Well, yeah. I mean, we've already done a few things. And I've kind of wanted to for a while now…Why? You don't want to?"

"No, I mean yes. I want to, it's just-" John cut himself off again, chewed his lip a moment. "Do you think this is a good time for that?"

Randy was silent for a minute, studying him and then his eyes narrowed. "You don't want to sleep with me because of what _he_ did." It wasn't a question.

"Look, don't get mad. It's just, you did just tell me about it and I know you've never really dealt with it properly."

But Randy was getting mad. John could see it in his eyes. "So, what? I'm too damaged for you to want me that way now?"

"What? No! How could you think that? Of course I want you. You're probably the sexiest person I've ever known, Randy and that's not even just about looks, everything else about you just adds to that." He paused. "I don't…I don't want to hurt you…"

Most of the anger in Randy's eyes died at his words and he sighed. "You're kind of offending me here, John. I'm not going to break because you kiss me or because we do other things. I've had sex since. I mean, for a while after it happened, it was hard for me to even let other people get close but that was one part of it that I actually did get past. And, besides that, it's you."

"What do you mean?" John asked warily.

"Okay, so we do the real sappy stuff, then." Randy stood, took a step closer to him. "Look, I'm not completely okay. I still have nightmares and anger management issues and I can't be in the same room with Hunter without being completely terrified of the man but I think-" He paused, shook his head. "I _feel_ like I might be okay…you know, someday."

"You do?" John asked as Randy put a hand on his cheek.

A soft smile lit Randy's face and he brushed his thumb over John's cheekbone. "I do. And I think it's gonna be because of you."

John stared up at him, a little in awe of the words. "I love you," he breathed out finally, and froze as soon as the words left his mouth.

Randy's smile only widened and he leaned in to kiss John, answering John's words when he pulled back.

"I love you too."

Xxxxxxxxx

I really hope you guys liked this ending. I might write a sequel someday, maybe when I finish my other wrestling fic.


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